


tmanun

by bombcollar



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Gen, Holidays, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 23:36:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16983969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bombcollar/pseuds/bombcollar
Summary: An Octoling returns home to celebrate a significant cultural holiday, and to reflect upon the past.





	tmanun

**Author's Note:**

> Tmanun (octopus, in Hebrew) is a holiday conceived by a friend of mine and I cherish it very much. The Octarians' worship of the sun is somewhat canonized in an early Splatoon comic, so we ran with that.
> 
> Mimi and Shelby feature in two of my other fics. Maybe you've read them too?

  
Shelby's apartment is tiny but she insists Mimi stay anyway, and besides, the children love having her here. Its single bed means Mimi has to curl up in her octopus form to sleep, tucked into her duffel bag, but she doesn't mind, really. It's good to be home.

The nursery dome is buried deep in the earth, protected at the cost of dwelling in cold and humid darkness. Some of the children ask her if the Great Octarian's light can still reach them here, and Shelby assures them that yes, it can. As long as they keep their lanterns and candles lit, they will be blessed. It may be some time before they can see the surface for themselves.

_Antigravity is smooth, but chains and brakes are reliable in the event of a power outage. The lift rattles as it is drawn upwards, the Octarian children inside it pressing their faces and suckers to the reinforced glass walls, watching themselves rise up and up. Mimi huddles next to her clutchmates, her yellow eyes wide, the emotional wounds of her separation from the non-military members of her little family forgotten for the moment._

_When they finally stop, there is a hushed, cathedral-like silence. The doors open onto the rocky, barren surface. She is unprepared for the vastness of the sky, for its infinite depth, delicate orange and indigo as the sun begins to rise over the sea. In the distance, the city lights twinkle like the remaining stars._

* * *

 

Mimi colors her tentacles brilliant and fiery, scarlet and sunset orange, white at the tips like the center of a candle flame. Only mimics like herself have such fine control over their colors, but the other soldiers are just as bright, making the barrack grounds look like a bonfire.

"You are way fatter than you were last year."

Mimi laughs, brushing away the hands grabbing her cheeks. "I'm not that much fatter."

The other Octoling, Norori, raises her eyebrows disbelievingly, a wry smile on her face. While she was a surface agent as well, her job was mostly maintenance of kettles and concealed entrances, so she didn't spend as much time in the city as Mimi did. Though the two of them were clutchmates, little about them was similar other than their skintone and striped markings. Norori had a delicacy about her, not frail, but taut, like a metal cable.

"Besides," Mimi shrugs, "if it doesn't interfere with my mission, does it really matter? I get beaten up by squids all day so you guys can get your weapons blueprints, I think I've earned that extra order of fries."

_Heat rising from the sand makes the horizon shimmer like a puddle next to heavy machinery. The surface is shockingly quiet, after a life lived underground among ever-churning pumps and generators, felt even before she was properly conscious, floating in her cloning tube. It seems so far away now, while the sun seems closer than ever, burning directly above her as she walks along the beach, boots stumbling through the soft, unfamiliar ground._

_She covers her eyes with her nubby hands, tentacles curtaining her face. Hide and Seek was an important part of mimic training, melting into the environment and becoming virtually invisible, but she'd wandered too far from her group and nobody had managed to find her. Now the sun was up fully, harsh as sandpaper against her eyes. Was it angry with her? Why hadn't they found her? Did that mean she had hidden too well?_

_Mimi drops to her knees, ignoring the sting of the sand on her bare skin, breath hitching in her chest._

* * *

 

The third night already. It seemed to go so quickly, practically halfway over. Soon she'd be back in Inkopolis as if nothing had ever happened, surrounded by the chatter of squids preparing for their own holiday. The common area is alight, a line of little altars with misshapen candles on folding tables, the children heaping them with coins, pretty rocks, shiny bolts, pieces of candy and folded paper prayers. 

Mimi had spent the day wandering the damp, neon-lit streets of the residential dome she'd spent much of her free time in as a teenager, exploring the smugglers' shops to see what overpriced treasures from the surface were on offer and dreaming of what else might lie out of reach. Things hadn't changed much, other than the band tees and CDs that were available. Ultimately she'd only bought a couple pastries from one of the small street vendors, planning to leave one as an offering and give the rest to Shelby. 

_"How much?"_

_"800 a pop."_

_Mimi scoffs, frowning down at the tickets. "You know I could just sneak in for free, right?"_

_"Ah, but you need these, too," the smugger waggles a handful of brightly-colored plastic bracelets. He's a fangtooth moray, all bristling teeth and beady orange eyes. "And Wahoo World's real serious about security, they'd spot you in an instant if you didn't have one of these."_

_800 was practically two weeks' salary. She could go somewhere else to convert it to squid money and buy the tickets herself, but they'd upcharge her too and she'd end up spending almost as much. Any time she wanted, she could go to the surface and sit on a hill about a mile from the park, bask in the sun, watch the coaster roll by, listen to the music and smell the hot fry oil and popcorn, but getting in was another story. Some of the older agents told her just to wait, that she could go to the park once she was given an assignment, but that was years and years away and there was no guarantee she'd even be stationed in the city._

_"...so I'll just steal the wristband," she tells the eel. "If you can do it, I don't see why I couldn't. I'm the one who can change my colors." If she couldn't even manage to grab a stupid wristband, how could she be expected to earn her place on the surface?_

_The smuggler chuckles at her, tucking the bands away in his bag. "Whatever you say, kid."_

* * *

 

The scene at the second shrine is lively, as it had been at the first, candles perched on every surface and the building itself so covered in offerings it's barely visible. 

Though their people had been forced into the Valley at the conclusion of the great turf war, the Octarians had used the space for generations prior, and this shrine was one of the oldest structures still standing. In contrast to the first shrine, which was intact but modest, too deep and surrounded by delicate caves to alter, this one is lavish, painted bright red and gold, featuring a fountain where many candles floated, spurred into a gentle dance by the current. Mimi hands a donation to the shrine maiden in exchange for her own candle, which she lights and sets adrift with the others. Their flames mingle, a gentle heat rising, warming her cheeks and hands as she splays her fingers in front or their light.

_"What are you nervous about?"_

_"Same thing as everybody else."_

_Mimi checks her reflection in her sunglasses, making sure she looked as much like a squid as possible. Having her tentacles flipped upside-down felt weird, but she'd been slowly adjusting to it. It was a minor discomfort compared to what she'd endured just to get here. Learning how to hide for hours or days on end, how to endure sleeplessness, hunger and cold, how to slip through the tiniest of cracks. "You'll be fine, they barely notice anything anyway."_

_"But what if they do?"_

_"Well then," she flicks the glasses on. The sunrise light glints on their metallic lenses, glittering on the surface of the distant ocean. "If you're so afraid, you can stay here."_

* * *

 

"You've been awfully quiet this evening. Are you tired of the celebrations already?" Shelby gently ribs, trying in vain to get the lighter to spark. 

Mimi takes it and clicks it on, the flame wavering at the end of its long snout. It just needed a little extra force. "No. I was just thinking. There's a lot of Octoling kids up on the surface. I always came back here to celebrate, so... I guess I'm just wondering what it would be like, if that was me, at that age. By myself in some city I barely knew."

"You never would have left the Valley though. And you wouldn't have been alone, I'm sure you'd have some of your clutchmates with you..."

She lights the fifth candle. The first burns low, bits of crabshell littering the dish towel Shelby had set up beneath the shrine to catch the wax. "Yeah, I wouldn't have left. If you'd asked me back then if I would rather live in Inkopolis I would've told you no, even with all the great food and the sunlight and everything, but... if the rest of my squad was leaving, I might've felt like I had no other choice."

_The small apartment is made smaller by the six Octolings living in a space meant for two, but close quarters are nothing any of them is a stranger to. This is a base of operations, but it is also a home, for now. They buy candles, awe at the sheer volume of the department store, decorate the space and make it their own. It isn't the barracks, but it will do._

_When morning comes, they watch the sunrise together on the roof, Mimi with her arm around the shoulder of her squadmate, the faint ocean breeze making the flames flicker and glint in their eyes._

* * *

 

During the great turf war, the third shrine had been destroyed, razed to the ground by the Inklings to the point where none of it remained. In respect to the events of the past, it had never been rebuilt, but there was a memorial in its place. A stylized metal sculpture of one of the great octoweapons, a mechanical sea monster, stands in the center of a circular brick platform. Rather than being posed fiercely, it simply gazes up at the sky. Dozens of candles glow around it, with eight of them arranged carefully across its back. Six are lit. Tears of wax trail down its face and body.

Mimi can't help but notice most of the visitors are young Octarians. Many older individuals simply can't make the trek to such a remote location. She expects the final shrine will be even more barren, but maybe she'll be surprised. As she watches, a trio of teenage Octolings, dressed in bright parkas, cluster together in front of the monument. They put their arms around one another, smiling for the camera as the center one holds her phone up with her tentacle.

_Two of them are selected from their clutch at a time, barely three years old and ready to learn how to use a weapon. It feels too big and heavy to control, the miniature Octoshot nearly half Mimi’s size, her arms wrapped around it and holding it to her chest. She’d always remember the Octoling who was there with her. Even smaller, sitting with the gun in her lap, trying to figure out how to get her nubby fingers around the trigger._

_The selection had been arbitrary, but something changed that day. They ate together during meals, played together, slept next to each other until it was time for them to part, sent to develop their more specialized skills. She was not a mimic like Mimi was. And one day, she was gone, last seen in the deep, near the train tracks. Perhaps she simply sought a higher purpose._

* * *

 

"You've barely been outside this whole week." She's back in Shelby's apartment, bringing her host dinner, carefully setting the tray of crab rolls and kelp salad by Shelby's bed. "You been feeling alright?"

Shelby gives her a weary smile, twisting the cap off her liquid vitamin supplement and pouring it into a glass. It's a festive Splatfest cup Mimi had brought her on another occasion, orange plastic with a picture of a cat on it. "I've been celebrating with the children. I can't exactly leave them alone..."

"Sure you can." Mimi takes a seat, crossing her legs and propping her chin on her hand. "I've seen some of your coworkers up at the shrines. Just have someone else watch the kids for a while, they can handle it. I know you love them but all they really seem interested in doing is playing with their new toys. I think they'll be alright without you for a few hours. Why don't you come to the surface shrine with me?"

Quiet, Shelby takes a drink, wrinkling her nose at the chalky, medicinal taste. "I don't know, it's very far and I'm not... I don't exactly have the stamina for a hike."

Though she'd never asked, Mimi was sure Shelby's never even been to the final shrine, and probably hasn't seen the surface for years. Buried so deep in the earth, she'd lived beneath an artificial sun for a very long time. Down here they didn't even bother with the sky panels, leaving the walls nothing but bare, exposed metal, pipes and wiring. Mimi watches her pick indifferently at her food. "I'll carry you."

"Oh, no, I couldn't ask you to do that..."

"You're not the one asking," Mimi nudges her shoulder. "Come on. It'll be good for you. We'll make it in time for sunset so you don't have to miss lighting the last candle with your kids."

The glass clinks as Shelby sets it down, looking into space for a moment. "...alright. Yes, we'll go."

* * *

 

It's a long ways to the final shrine, which sat perched on the Valley's rocky shoreline, battered constantly by high winds and ocean spray. After exiting the surface dome, it was still several miles' walk over a broken, rocky path, marked by faded banners fluttering in the wind. In recent years reflective arrows had been added to help guide visitors to the sacred site, but there was nothing to be done that would make the physical journey either. It was a trial even for an Octarian of Mimi's fitness, and utterly impossible for someone like Shelby.

As she needed both her arms to balance, she holds her friend in her long tentacles, curled around Shelby's legs and shoulders. Talking would have been difficult, and it didn't seem appropriate, in any case, to try and speak over the hush of the distant waves. The sun sits red and magnificent above the sea as they crest the final hill, the shrine finally rising from behind the dunes.

It is pitted, corroded, the wood gray and splintered like old bone. The shrine is open-air, a large pavilion with a firepit in the center. The fire burns clean so the sunset is not obscured by smoke. Countless candles glimmer in jars to protect them from the wind, which is constant, tearing the banners ragged. Once-gilded metal tentacles curl around the edges of the roof, hung with hundreds of paper tags from visitors. There are a few other Octarians seated around the fire, and the old shrine maidens, but they're nearly alone up here.

Beyond the shrine, beyond the edge of the cliff, is the sea, gold and indigo in the late afternoon light. The sun sets between a pair of rock formations, sea stacks uncannily shaped like octopuses, their yearning tentacles reaching for one another. A thick, intricately-woven rope hangs between them, connecting their mantles, decorated with tassels, and between them the sun sets in the exact center, as it always did on the last night of Tmanun. The Inklings, fully aware of their significance to the Octarian people, made many attempts to destroy them during the great turf war, but they always endured despite their apparent fragility.

Mimi starts to head for the shrine to get them both out of the wind, but Shelby speaks up first. "No... Can we get closer? I want to see the sunset."

They'd both bundled up as best they could, but even Mimi, with all her extra layers, could feel the bite of the ocean wind. This was for Shelby, though. Shelby, who hadn't seen the sun in a decade or more. "...sure. We'll get closer."

She carries the other Octoling past the shrine, now able to use her arms but still keeping her tentacles wound around Shelby securely, just in case. Even this high up she could feel the salt spray as the waves crashed against the rocks below. Gulls cry, circling the stone guardians, as the sun just touches the horizon, crimson and brilliant.

"I forgot what it looked like," Shelby murmurs, barely audible above the gale. "I'm so sorry..." Not an apology to the sun, because the sun would shine on whether she was there or not, but to herself, for neglecting herself such a sight for so long.

Mimi rests her cheek on the top of Shelby's head, gently leaning on her. She can feel Shelby trembling, her shaky breathing. The guardians guide the sun gently to its rest beyond the sea.

 

 


End file.
